Holy Christ!

My name is Anna. And I am a blog deserter. SORRY. I didn't MEAN to let the cobwebs collect and the dust bunnies hump and multiply into the millions. But this whole mommy crap totally is like a job and shit. It REALLY gets in the way of my hard partying and bar fights. And I tried taking my baby to the bars with me, but for some reason folks just didn't seem keen on beer bonging with me when I had my spawn slung over my shoulder. Dunno... some folks are pussies.

So now I will dry again to dust off the ol' blog and get to it.

Here is the first thing I want to share with you. My curly hair is fading. GASP. Yes. I popped a baby out and the hormones CHANGED MY HAIR. I know, I know, the earth just shifted off it's axis for you all. Rest assured it's still curly, just no where NEAR the plethora of unruly curls that was once my mane. Crappy part is, is that I must wait for it to grow out for it to look normal. Right now it's calm and un kinky at the top and wild and fuzzy everywhere else. It looks like my head is greasy in a very very UNCOOL way. Because, I don't know if you know this, but there IS a way for greasy hair to be cool. Ask Joaquin Phoenix. Ok, bad example. Whatever, I mean what you know.

Anywho. Hi. I am alive. Shit, wait, now I gotta go. Little man just made pumpkin pie in his pants. Awesome.

I had a baby. I am officially a mutha.....

Yep. I had a pup. He was HUGE! By c-section thank you very much. It's been a few weeks. I am out of drugs and out of sleep and now have even less time than I did before.

He is the most interesting baby in the world. He doesn't normally drink beer. But when he does, he drinks Dos Equis.

Also, don't know if you guys know this but babies cry. It sucks.

Hi. Remember me?

Yes yes. Been quiet. Been knocked up and not mentally clear enough to type any shit worth reading. I am 4 days past due. Bleck.

Anyway - ENOUGH about ME!

I wanted to talk about my wonderful friend Dave Letterman. I wanted to share with you why I love this man. Last night he was pissed. Really pissed about John McCain blowing off his show.

It's a little long. Like 10 minutes. Try to at least get to the 6:30 minute mark... awesome. But no one sez it like Dave. YOu GOTTA watch. It brings me joy.

Coming outta retirement for America

Sorry. I'ts been over a month. Been overwhelmed. Busy. Overwhelmed. Tired. Fat. Swollen. Busy. Hot. Just to name a few of the things I have been.

But there is something that has shaken me outta of my blogging slumber. Awakened the blogging beast that I am. It's the Olympics. I fucking LOVE them. LUV 'em. This year is even more fun as I can cheer with passion and excitement for a friend of mine. I teased her once on one of our girls night out shin digs that I was going to claim she was my best friend. That we go way back. That we are blood sisters because I was so proud of her. This, of course, is a joke. My friend Suzanne can legitimately claim that as they have been friends since they were 14 years old and they are like family. I have known this lovely lady for only a few short years. But she is the cream of the crop let me tell you.

Well this year, she is assistant coaching for the US women's Olympic water polo team. She played on that very team in 2000 as a goalie at the Australia summer Olympics and gave the team a nice shiny silver medal. It was all because of her. She carried the team. I SWEAR IT. It was ALLLLLLLLLLL Bernie. Honest.

ANYWHO - I watched the opening ceremony the other night and SAW her walking with the US team 'oer there in Chinaland. It was sooooooo great to see her pearly whites flash on the TV as she waved with every one else! I squealed like a 10 year old when I saw her on the screen!!! Here she is on the right in her U.S. opening ceremony outfit.

Side note to Ralph Lauren - when designing clothes for the U.S. athletes, can you NOT give them several layers and hats to wear in humid China in AUGUST? Thanks Ralph. I think I speak

for the team when I say - idiot.

(I think this is BEFORE they headed to the stadium - dunno - she's in China right now, kinda hard to ask her specifics.)

I am also hoping, as a note to Bernie, when you get back and have the internet access to read this, that you have LOTS of wonderful stories of Olympic TROPHIES, ahem - if you know what I mean. Trophies... not medals. Male trophies. From foreign lands with accents and hard bodies. We begged you before you left. Don't let a pregnant woman down. I need me some trophy stories. Oh yeah...

Ok - back to my point. This is a direct order. You MUST watch all women's water polo. You much cheer and scream really loud at the TV because THEY CAN HEAR YOU IN CHINA IF YOU DO AND IT WILL HELP THEM KICK ASS. Promise. You must clap. Clap some more. Cheer. Scream. Holler. Yelp. All of it. Do it for Bernie. Do it for the Olympics. Do it for America.

Email etiquette

I have inherited many friends from my husbands past. Men that the King of Annaland grew up with that I have confiscated as my own friends. One of them is a very crass little fellow. Neurotic and crass. I gave him permission many years ago to be as vulgar as he wished around me, as long as he allowed the same. It has been a very symbiotic relationship ever since.

I emailed him recently about joining us an event at our house and needed his mailing address as I was too lazy to go look it up. This is our email correspondence.

Me: Whats your home address. Should I mail shit THERE or to the office?Answer me. NOW. Also, are you engaged yet? Don't lie bitch.

Him: 910 XXXXXXX CA 92XXX This is my home address send love letters to the house. Send boxes of money to my office. 325 XXXXX street XXXXXX Ca 92XXX Not engaged.

Me: Jesus. Do I have to order you a Russian bride or something? Christ. If I do, I promise, barely 18. I know that's the only way you'll bite.

Him: Sounds good, please send pictures of her butt hole.

Me: Noted.

I love you Penn Jillete

I really wish I had his job. I would love to host the Bullshit series. Coolest job ever. Here is one of my faves on bottled water. Sit down. Pop some popcorn. Fill a tasty glass of tap water and enjoy.

Happy Birthday Josh

You thought I forgot huh? You thought I would let it go by un-noticed. How could I you little fucker!? That is why I am the coolest of all big sisters. I would never forget, even though you have been gone from this world for 8 years now.

This is my present to you. Every time I hear it I think of you. I think of our long drive from Waynesville to Atlanta trapped in the cab of dad's truck. The three of us, with you and I HATING what a shitty driver dad is. You took control of the radio and kept bouncing stations. Then this song came on and you blasted it. We screamed the song to dad as he laughed uncontrollably at how wacky both his kids were. I never realized that we both knew the words to this song. But we did. The movie What About Mary had just been released. I guess that's why we were so into it.

Did you know they play this at all the Angels baseball games after the 7th inning stretch? I sing it out loud every time to you. But you know that.

Anyway. Here you are. Happy Birthday. I miss you so much. But I guess in a way, thanks to memories and songs like this, we are still having fun together.